


Scarred Bones and Violet Fire

by SansyFresh



Series: Fresh's Babble Collection [26]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Anxious Sans, Bone Fondling, Caring Grillby, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marking, No Smut, On the surface, Stressed Sans, suggestive moments, very light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 20:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11089416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansyFresh/pseuds/SansyFresh
Summary: Grillby didn’t like worrying, didn't likecaringabout people. And yet, Sans always found ways to make it happen.





	Scarred Bones and Violet Fire

**Author's Note:**

> So...I don't know where most of this came from lol Just really wanted some more UF Sansby in my life and this happened. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy ^^

All it took was for Grillby to look up and _see_ Sans to know there was something wrong. There was a slouch in his stance, a sharp darkness to the smudges beneath his sockets. The asshole should have been at home, resting, doing anything really than coming here and making Grillby worry about him.

 

Grillby didn’t like worrying about people. And yet, Sans always found ways to make it happen.

 

The short, scarred skeleton made his way to the front of the bar, dodging humans and monsters alike before plopping down on his signature stool. The other regulars, as rough as they were, still made sure no one ever took his seat, regardless if he showed up or not. Not that Sans ever showed any gratitude for it, monster-kind in general was still a rough lot.

 

“Hey Grillbz.” Dear stars, even his voice was exhausted, why the fuck was he here? Why hadn’t Papyrus dragged his bony ass home yet? “Paps gave me the day off, so…” Sans shrugged, taking the bottle Grillby almost subconsciously gave him and began slowly drinking from it. Well, that explained it, at least somewhat. If he was here with Papyrus’ blessing, it meant the taller brother had already tried everything he could think of to help him.

 

Which was concerning.

 

Grillby sighed, his flame lowering for a moment before brightening back to it’s usual deep violet hue. Getting a few of his employees’ attention, he let them know he would be taking the rest of the day off before walking to Sans’ side. His small boyfriend was still suckling at his mustard, eyelights locked on a far point in the distance. Grillby huffed, then poked him, albeit gently, to get his attention. Sans startled, looking up with a sheepish expression.

 

“Were you tryin’ ta talk to me, Grillbz?” Grillby frowned and shook his head, took the bottle and placed it back on the counter, then hefted the compact skeleton into his arms. Sans squeaked, though low enough that only Grillby heard him. With a jagged smile, he made his way into the back, straight through the kitchens and up the flight of stairs to his small apartment. Sans stayed quiet the whole time, though he looked up with a shocked confusion every few steps.

 

Grillby found he preferred that to the apathetic misery Sans usually sported.

 

As he made his way through the living room, Sans began to squirm as he saw that they were headed past the couch and to the bedroom. Grillby simply tightened his hold, rubbing soothingly along Sans’ scapula.

 

“Grillbz, I don’t, I mean-” Sans was cut off as Grillby dropped him on the bed, crawling up to hover over him. He looked up with jittery eyelights, his frame trembling, if only slightly.

 

“You don’t what, Sans?” Grillby murmured, kneeling down to give the other a chaste kiss, smiling as the simple warmth drew out a soft sigh. He continued leaving little, warm kisses to Sans’ skull and jaw line, reveling in every sigh and moan he received. After a while, though, it was clear his tiny lover was still tense, still too stressed to relax. Well, he knew how to take care of that.

 

As long as Sans let him.

 

Backing off the other and standing at the foot of the bed, Grillby loosened and removed his tie, then his shoes, tossing them into a corner of the room. He let his flames grow a little more untamed, a bit more wild, and smirked as the room heated up a bit. Sans was staring at him with widened eyelights, leaning back on his arms as he waited for whatever Grillby was going to do.

 

“Take off your shirt, Sans.” His voice was calm, gentle, but firm. It commanded obedience, but wasn’t threatening. He wouldn’t force Sans to do anything, couldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to. But right now he needed to be the one in charge, or else Sans would drive himself to dust with all this stress, all the worries and anxieties he harbored.

 

Sans blinked, seemingly surprised, before his clawed hands moved to take off his jacket, laying it back on the bed before slowly removing his shirt. Grillby took the dark gray shirt from him, tossing it on the floor before putting his jacket on the nearby dresser. If Sans valued any object he owned, it was the heavy leather jacket he had made himself, and Grillby wasn’t about to break the mood by throwing it around.

 

Settling back into the pillows, Grillby gently pulled Sans back until his still clothed pelvis rested firmly in his lap. “Good boy, Sans. Keep your hands here for me, alright?” Sans nodded as his hands were guided to rest on Grillby’s thighs, phalanges gripping his dress pants. Grillby made certain Sans was stable before leaning forward, ghosting his breath over the other’s vertebrae.

 

Sans gasped as nimble, heated fingertips dragged along his spine, through his ribs, over his scapula, and across the back of his skull. The heat was concentrated in certain points, stronger in some places than in others, until he was panting, gripping at Grillby’s legs in an effort to ground himself. Grillby smiled at the airy moans he garnered, though they weren’t entirely what he was after.

 

No, this wasn’t about pleasuring his lover. That would only be a temporary solution.

 

Instead, he drifted his movements to soft touches along specific vertebrae, where Sans’ skull attached to his spine and down to the lumbar bones. They were so tiny, so much smaller than the hands that touched them. Tiny bones that trembled as heat flowed through them, drawing out the stress, relaxing his frame, until Sans was all but leaning into him, sockets half lidded.

 

With a final drag across the middle of his spine, Grillby left black soot as his mark, smiling as Sans keened at the touch to his already sensitive bones. The only thing keeping Sans in a sitting position was the hold Grillby had on him, so he carefully moved to the side, lowering his lover among the pillows and covering him with one of the thick, soft comforters he kept on the bed.

 

Sans moved into his touch as Grillby left a final kiss on his skull, curling into the warmth of the small nest he had made for him. Within a few moments, he was deeply asleep, even snoring if that was what that slightly squeaky sound was. His boyfriend was just too cute.

 

He would come back up after checking on the bar, just to make certain no one was fucking up the business in his absence, then he would keep a close eye on his lover. Sans deserved some rest.

 

Grillby was happy he could be the one to help him get it.


End file.
